22.11.12

UK CHAMPIONSHIP STORIES PART 1: ALEX HIGGINS

Any
sport would have been grateful for one Alex Higgins but there were times when
snooker felt as if even a single Hurricane was one too many.

A
combustible genius, Higgins lurched between brilliance and excess, leaving a
trail of wreckage, both metaphorical and real, throughout his memorable life.

The
UK Championship provided a stage for one of the greatest highs of his career as well as some regrettable lows.

On
table, he was a leading contender for the early UK Championship titles. The
tournament was first staged in 1977 when there was only a small number of
professionals. Higgins had already been world champion and, though
unpredictable, was at the peak of his playing powers.

He
reached his first UK final in 1980, losing 16-6 to Steve Davis, and then
another in 1982, a few months after he had triumphed at the Crucible. Terry
Griffiths, as different a character as it would be possible to meet, edged him
16-15.

Higgins wrote in his autobiography that he practised ten hours a day for the
1983 UK Championship, sponsored by Coral.He was pitted in the final against Davis once
again. The first session went about as badly as it could for Higgins. He had
the crowd support but mustered a highest break of only 34 and lost all seven
frames played.

Higgins
and Davis were opposites in every sense. Higgins was volatile and self
destructive whereas Davis was dedicated and controlled. Ice cool, he would
surely not lose from such a promising position.

But
Higgins, for all his faults off table, was always a fighter in the arena and
dug his heels into the second session, winning seven of the eight frames to
trail only 8-7. Going into the final night they were level at 11-11.

This
was now a battle for the line and the audience had to choose between
the clean-cut and the flawed. Most, though by no means all, chose Higgins, who
led 14-12, trailed 15-14 but dominated the last two frames.

As
Clive Everton wrote in Snooker Scene at the time, “perhaps he was like a man
drawing comfort from the fact that the firing squad could only kill him once.
At that stage, pride of performance could only be all that realistically
remained but, as he at first contained Davis and then accrued one frame after
another, hope dawned like a new day.

“The
death or glory finish for which he hungers stimulated one last surge which left
him the only man standing when the shooting was done.”

In
other words, this high profile, BBC televised victory over snooker’s top dog
reinforced in Higgins the image of a champion against the odds. Though blessed
with considerable talent, nothing seemed to come easy to him. If he was going
to do it, it would have to be the hard way.

The
two were not friends – far from it – and the words afterwards were not especially
warm. Higgins wrote in his book: "I remember looking across at Steve during the presentation and thinking he looked like a little boy lost. He stood there, chalking his cue, bemused by the scenes of joy around him."The rematch in the 1984 UK final petered out: Davis won 16-8. Normal
service was resumed.

Higgins
was the darling of the tabloids, though this is about a poisoned a chalice as
can be imagined.

On
the back pages, on the front pages, Higgins was public property and the
pressure was building. Something had to give, and it did.

Even
without the media, Higgins had always been a bustling, bristling fireball of
nervous energy, anger and emotion. At the 1986 UK Championship it exploded like
never before in one of the most infamous incidents in the history of the
tournament.

Higgins
had beaten a second season professional called Stephen Hendry 9-8 in the last
64. In the last 16 he defeated Mike Hallett 9-7 before launching into a
scathing but obviously impassioned critique of the size of the pockets.

“We’re
playing pool, not snooker,” said Higgins, giving the assembled press what they
believed would be their story for the night.

He
then went downstairs to his dressing room but was asked to give a urine sample
as part of the WPBSA’s relatively new drugs testing policy.

And
then it all kicked off. This was long before my time on the circuit but I’ve
spoken to a WPBSA official who was present that night, who told me: “Higgins
was snarling like a dog. There was a ball of foam coming out of his mouth. He
started picking up plates and throwing them at anyone in his way, like he was
in a Greek restaurant. He was mad as hell.”

This
unpleasantness ended with Higgins head-butting Paul Hatherell, the tournament
director.Higgins, of course, recalled it all differently, writing in his book: "I went to find [David] Harrison (a WPBSA official) and as I walked out I lost my footing and tripped, spilling my pint over someone."

There
was a media storm, as there always was with Higgins. And he was, as always, unrepentant,
giving a press conference outside his house wearing a fur hat and ankle length
coat and holding one of the earliest mobile phones in existence, which was the
size of several house-bricks.

Asked
by a reporter if he could survive without snooker, Higgins shot back: “can
snooker survive without me?”

This
was typical of many of Higgins’s comments: smart, self-important and with an
uncomfortable underlying level of truth.

Higgins
was beaten in the 1986 semi-finals by Davis. Snooker Scene’s account of this
match was that Higgins was roundly cheered on the way in and out of the arena but
that it was only 50% full, and this for a match featuring the self-styled ‘people’s
champion.’

He
was subsequently banned for six tournaments but would return to create excitement
and trouble in almost equal measure.

One
such incident came at the 1991 UK Championship when Higgins greeted Hendry before their first round
match with the words, “hello, I’m the devil.”

Hendry
won 9-3 after which there was a difference in recollection as to what Higgins
had said at the contest’s conclusion.

The Northern Irishman claimed it had been, “well done, Stephen,
you were a little bit lucky.” Hendry’s memory was of Higgins telling him, “up
your a*** you c***.”

Higgins’s last great hurrah in the tournament came in 1994,
when he was sliding down the rankings. He beat Nigel Bond and reached the last
16 but was beaten by Dave Harold. This was his last appearance in a BBC
tournament.

He
ended his professional career lying bleeding on the ground at the Plymouth
qualifiers three years later after being stabbed by a girlfriend. His life
ended in unbearably sad circumstances in 2010.

To
answer Higgins’s own question when he bestrode the sport like a malevolent colossus
a generation ago, snooker did survive without him. In fact it flourished with
new stars setting new standards. The UK Championship would enjoy many great
moments in which he did not feature.

But
for all his faults, and he had many, there was something special about Alex Higgins
which is impossible to manufacture or replicate.

In
1983 he had won snooker’s gunfight at the UK Coral and he kept the game in the
news in the years which followed through a career best summed up as the good, the
bad and the ugly.

Brillant article Dave.My last abiding memory of Alex was he was playing an exhibition against Jimmy White in Belfast,jimmy was upstairs playing local players before he played alex.I went downstairs in the club were there were 4 tables and alex was playing allcomers for £5 a frame giving them 70 up.I was privleged to be there watching a genuis playing,but also very saddened that he had been reduced to this,he was in the early stages of his battle against cancer and he cut a forlon figure.Higgy had everything,money,women,lifestyle and a god given talent to play snooker,and blew everything.But he lived one hell of life.

Great piece Dave. The 1983 final was an even more remarkable achievement because was quite poorly in hospital a month or so before.I saw Alex play on many occasions, I loved him for the brilliant, exciting, gun-slinging play. He also had the heart of a lion. True he did some bad things in his time but he never killed anyone. What he did for snooker could never be repaid.I'm not ashamed to say I cried when he died and cried even more on the day of the funeral. The only other sportsman to warrant the same reaction by me was George Best. Both were mercurial geniuses who gave me so much pleasure - their legacy will remain with me forever.R.I.P Alex. Snooker will never forget your efforts to popularise and keep this game alive.(It's criminal that we can't buy a dvd of one of the greatest snooker matches of all time)

A write up that does the man justice - such a shame about the pun in the last paragraph - even the late Richard Whitely would have been ashamed...

Dave, do you ever think how different your life would have been but for Alex (as surely without him Snooker wouldn't be a quarter the sport it is and there wouldn't be such a thing as a snooker journalist?)

The game will never be as good because Alex was a one off.On and off the table he was brilliant.I met him on many occasions and even rang him up from time to time.People say never meet your hero - I'm proud to say I never heeded this advice.RIP Alex my snooker hero

You need characters in snooker. Geniuses. Ronnie and Alex come to mind. Their presence and unpredictability is encapsulating and is needed in a sport like snooker. Judd has a certain level of flamboyancy but lack the charisma and un-stableness of Ron and Alex. Snooker needs someone new or it will suffer. The more mainstream people will get bored. I'd like to see if Luca could fill this gap, there seems to be something about him...

I wish I'd been alive to watch Alex in his prime. Would love it if more of his stuff was uploaded to the internet.